


Love Like Knives

by wakandan_wardog



Series: Wardog's Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Kink, Flirting, Foreign Language, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, No Beta, The Winter Soldier Lurks When He Flirts, kink mentioned, petnames, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandan_wardog/pseuds/wakandan_wardog
Summary: Winter wakes up Tony when he wants someone to play rough with.This is a Bingo Fill for Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019.U4: [Image: Winter Soldier holding a knife.]





	Love Like Knives

**Author's Note:**

> To an extent, this wound up Tony/Winter Soldier. I'm not sure where James fits into things, though we all agree that Steve would disapprove. But they're all adults, they make their own choices. 
> 
> Warning: (Discussions of Knife Play, no actual injury.)  
> Note that Tony/Winter are in a relationship and have previously negotiated kinks and play. This is just a snippet (possibly in a larger series, certainly in a larger verse) and part of the game is playing and flirting at playing. Rest assured they're consenting, both enthusiastic, and have the option of safe-wording at any time.

Tony Stark is oftentimes a difficult man to track down, largely due to all the things he needs to accomplish in a given day. If you know the man at all beyond his public persona, it’s probably the first thing you pick up. It takes no time at all before one is well-acquainted with Stark’s tendency to skip sleep in favor of late-night engineering binges, repair work, and inventing sprees. To say nothing of compulsory trips to save the world.

Considering the fact that he also remains the head of R&D for Stark Industries, is Chairman of the Board and is frequently required for business meetings, one begins to question how he manages it all. With the sheer number of patents the man has pending and approved on any given day, it’s rather a wonder he manages to sleep _at all_. That is of course to say nothing of how often the Avengers are deployed on some mission or another to save the world, solidify peace or disrupt the plans of villains anywhere on the globe. Between the tangling in various international incidents and the flight time there or back, Stark clocks more air time in a year than pilots might throughout the course of their career.

Sleeping? Well, considerably less than is optimum, to be sure.

What little sleep he manages to get isn’t near enough, and is often stolen in patches of sunlight at the breakfast table or during Avengers meetings that have dragged on. To find the man in his bed is nothing short of a miracle, and in most cases would certainly be cause enough to leave the man alone. Again, he doesn’t get enough sleep.

But when running short on time, well, needs must. It is a shame though, the man even makes slumber a visual feast. Stark’s compact, tanned body is sprawled across the deep crimson of his sheets, all burnished-gold skin, and soft black hair. In the darkened room it’s impossible to see the hints of silver that glint in his tangled nest of hair, but the pronounced pout of his lips and the way they’re framed by his trademark goatee stand out. He’s wearing low-slung pants but no t-shirt, sprawled belly-down with his arc-reactor hidden beneath him.

The Winter Soldier watches him sleep for several moments, forcing himself to stand still by pressing his shoulders back against the wall. Still when Stark gives a little stretch and makes a purring sound in his throat, control snaps.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed, and lets out a low rumble. “Tony.”

There’s no reaction yet, which would be worrisome but for how they’ve been working on this. On this fragile thing that might be trust, that might be hope for all it unfurls such razor-sharp petals in his chest. “.. Tony.”

He thinks he sees a faint shiver, bares his teeth in a grin. “Tony.”

_Not yet, still sleeping... Poor tired kitten._

The voice gets more insistent, taking up a soft, consistent chant. “Tony. To-ny. _To-ny_ … Why don’t you wake up?”

“Tony…” He tries again, interrupting the soft almost adulatory cheer. “There are whispers of praise, Tony. Wake up, Tony.”

“And they say you are egotistical and would never sleep through praise…” A rude snort of laughter. “дурак … _Antoshka_.”

He finally stirs, letting out a grumbling sound.

“Aha, I know you heard me. Wake up, Tony.”

“Barnes, I swear to the Stars and the God-Forsaken Stripes,” Tony swears in a sleepy mumble. “You live, in no small part, because it would disappoint Captain America if I ended you. Don’t. Fucking. Push It.”

The Soldier agrees that, to an extent, that is possibly true. He shrugs it off though because there are a few redeeming qualities that he is fully prepared to use to his advantage. “Wake up, and I won’t have to.”

Tony makes an aggrieved noise into his pillow. “I swear to all the gods listening, I will stab you.”

And if that isn’t an invitation to play, Winter doesn’t know what is.

“... Promise?” He purrs, eager, anticipatory.

There’s a slight twitch and then a very precise settling. Tony is very suddenly alert in a way he wasn’t, before. It’s not alarm, though, there’s no fear in him. No, he’s interested, though perhaps a little cautious. Winter smirks.

Tony hesitates a moment, shifting slightly, not looking at him yet. There’s a curious, cautious lilt to his tone when he speaks. “You finally go round the bend, Barnes? Bearding an angry billionaire in his den is a good way to get a repulsor blast to that pretty face.”

Barnes? Winter scoffs a little, a smirk curling across his mouth. “Is that what you think of me, солнышко?”

The minute shifts, the slight twist-stretch of movement, all halt. A sudden stillness, anticipatory, falls over the body on the bed. “.... Winter?”

“Indeed, котенок.” He can hear the wolfish smile in his voice, but there is no time to waste. “Why don’t you wake up now, and we can talk more about your proposal to stab me?”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, don’t you?”

Tony rolls and turns, fixing his eyes on the Soldier and sighing when Winter steps into sight. As always the Soldier seems to appear out of the darkness, like a shadow pops up for the sole purpose of shielding him. He’s wearing his uniform, layers of black leather over his chest legs clothed in tac pants and boots. In his right hand, there is a gleaming silver blade. Not one of the blackened tactical options, no, this shines prettily in the soft light.

Tony feels his stomach swoop unexpectedly. But his Soldier is waiting, and he has to focus.

“Not for nothing babe…” The billionaire mumbles with a tilt of his head.

“You’re not judging,” Winter parrots, prowling forward until he reaches the foot of the bed. “But weird shit turns me on.”

“Yeah…” Tony sighs, giving a luxurious stretch. “Not to judge you, but exactly that.”

“You like it,” Winter reminds him, flashing teeth in a snarl. “You _love_ how much _I_ like it.”

“As long as you promise there won’t be any marks later for Steve to get bitchy about,” Tony shrugged. “Whatever you want, Snowflake.”  

Winter gives him a wolfish grin, tossing the blade up in the air and catching it easily. His eyes remain fixed on Tony while he toys with the blade, watching the billionaire fixate on flashing steel. “Only you and I here, маленький клинок. Why don’t you be honest with me, hmmm?”

Tony gulps his next breath, throat visibly bobbing as he swallows. At the same time, his eyes go half-lidded, gaze dark and secretive behind long lashes. “Oh, what about?”

“So coy,” Winter tsks even as it makes him smirk, tossing and catching his blade again. “Honestly, Stark, you think I don’t know you by now?”

“The scary thing is that you do,” Tony admits, and in a moment he’s sitting up with an easy flex of his abs. Legs still slightly spread, the billionaire pulls up his knees and then braces his elbows over them, arms casually reaching in the Soldier’s direction but relaxed rather than beckoning. “So, you want me to play with you?”

“A trick question,” Winter challenges, baring his teeth as he steps slightly to the side, inching around the corner of the bed before moving forward. Now within an easy reach, he offers the knife hilt first. “I always want you to play with me.”

Tony takes the knife, giving it a careless toss and catching it by the blade, then tossing it up again to catch it by the hilt. He smirks and beckons with his free hand, a sly curl of a finger summoning the soldier to him. Well within reach now, Winter bows down, bringing his face down to nearly a level with the billionaire's.

“Always?” Tony questions, quirking that summoning finger again.

“Always,” Winter swears, dropping his chin until he’s near enough to kiss.

“Mmmm,” Tony purrs, leaning forward to reward him with a brush of lips against his mouth, not a kiss but a tease at one. In the same movement, he lifts the blade, lays the flat of it against Winter’s cheekbone. “Today you just want me to make it hurt.”

Winter inhales a sharp breath, excited and eager now that it looks like he’s getting exactly what he wants. “Yes… Today I want it to hurt.”

“Then I’ll make it hurt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Дурак- Idiot  
> Солнышко - My Sun  
> Котенок- Kitten  
> маленький клинок - Little/Small Blade
> 
> Side Note: Tony would definitely post a picture of his boyfriend and a blade on some X-Rated Instagram with the caption "Weird shit turns me on." ( _GDI Tony._ )
> 
> A/N: THIS IS MY 60th FIC ON AO3! I dunno man, I had an idea in the shower. And, well, here we are. If you're gonna say _'I Love You'_ say it with knives? I guess? The title is a bit of a play on words, since one admits to 'liking' knives and refers to the other 'loving' it. So it's both a 'love like knives' and love/like knives. If that makes sense.  
> ❤️ ~ Wardog


End file.
